


The Cross

by Somebodys_No_One



Series: Not Like That [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Complete, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-28
Updated: 2013-11-28
Packaged: 2018-01-02 20:39:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1061376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somebodys_No_One/pseuds/Somebodys_No_One
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>France is determined to prove that he is right. If Romano isn't with Veneziano, then he must be with someone right? The answer may lie in the bickering Spanish and Italian's words; just across the table</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cross

It had been exactly three weeks since France had tried to convince every other nation that Veneziano and Romano had something going on.  Honestly, France was pretty sure that they had a thing, even though they had openly stated several times that they didn’t. After all France had heard them, and ears didn’t lie. That aside France was particularly unhappy. Following the explanation on their so-called ‘relationship’, England had taken the whole incident as a foolproof example as to why France was an idiot. In fact, between nations, the ordeal had been nicknamed ‘Exactly why we shouldn’t trust France’; this naming was courtesy of England himself. Now sitting across from Romano and Spain, France was staring dully at the table wondering what he could  do to fix his shattered repetition.

“I don’t get why you’re so upset Roma,” Spain said as he watched the younger nation fume, waving his hands. “It’s still a secret, no one knows.”

“Yeah, for now,” Romano sneered. “They’ll know shortly if you keep being so open about it. Gee, why don’t you go ahead and tell France? That French Frog will tell everyone,” he crossed his arms tightly and turned away.

Spain gave a soft smile and then looking around quickly as if making sure no one was looking; he looped his arm around Romano’s waist and pulled the other close, whispering something quickly in his ear. Romano blushed deeply at Spain’s words and roughly shoved him away, bright red and scowling.

France smiled and wondered exactly what he had stumbled into.

 

                “Oui, ‘Ungary, I know that I was wrong last time. But this time, this time I’m sure. Zere is no ‘arm in trying, oui? If I am correct you will ‘ave many pictures. Oui, at five. I’ll see you then,” France hung up, a small smile on his lips. It was time for him to regain lost respect, starting with one of the two who helped sink it in the first place.

 

Hungary appeared at their decided meeting place fifteen minutes early, camera in hand. “Hello,” she greeted him calmly, although France kept an eye on her frying pan, which she held in the other hand. She sat and played with the dials and knobs on her camera. Not looking up, she asked   him, “What’s the plan?”

“Oui, the plan. I know that Spain is going to be here in about thirty minutes or so.  He said he had something to pick up and look at zhe store ‘e is going to,” France waved a hand in the general direction of the stores across the street. No one could deny the stores, at least were romantically inclined. A chocolate shop was next to a jewelry store, which was next to a wine store. Honestly, it didn’t matter what store Spain chose to shop at, in France’s mind it all pointed to one clearly flashing neon sign, Spain was with Romano.

France leaned forward, placing his slender hands on his knees, gazing across the street. He frowned slightly and took a sip of his water.

“There!” Hungary stood and pointed. A bobbing mess of brown hair was making its way through the crowd. A red scarf was looped around the person’s neck, which highlighted their tanned skin. The bobbing head turned and stepped into the department store.

France smiled, getting up and shooting Hungary a smirk. “’Ungary, ma cheri, get your camera. We are going to do some shopping. “

 

The two walked into the store, turning slightly, trying to see him. Splitting up, France made his way to the back of the store.

“Ah, yes, it’s for a friend of mine, he means a lot to me, I want him to know that I love him very much. I think he might like this. Thank you.”

France turned the corner to see a familiar green-eyed Spaniard hurrying away as quickly as possible.

France, laughter in his eyes, stalked up to the counter. He eyed the merchandise, which was jewelry. “Excuse me,” France said, eying the   woman behind the counter. “My friend was ‘ere earlier and ‘e was buying a gift for one of our friends. In fact, I believe he just left. You see, mom cher, we are both supposed to buy ‘im a gift and I don’t want to buy ‘im the same thing. Would you mind telling me what ‘e bought?”

“Oh, well Mr. . .”

“Bonnefoy,” France supplied with charming grace.

“We aren’t allowed to give out information like that, customer privacy, you know?”

“Ah, oui, I understand mon cher. I just ‘oped to get ‘im something special,” France waved at his face slightly. “But I suppose that I will ‘ave to do it by myself. I’m sorry that I wasted your time.”

“Wait!” the woman leaned across the counter, catching his sleeve. “Don’t tell anyone, okay? That man, the one before you, the Spanish one? He bought a cross, okay? A gold cross necklace, rather girly too, set with a red gem in the shape of a heart. Don’t tell anyone,” she fixed him with a stern gaze.

“Of course,” France said. “Your secret is safe with me. I promise,” France gave a charming smile and turned on his heel, grinning like a minx.

 

France and Hungary walked into the conference room, both wore dark blue police uniforms. France’s shirt was unbuttoned just a bit farther than protocol and Hungary had her frying pan.

“You take good cop, I’ll take bad cop,” Hungary instructed as she lifted her frying pan.

“Oui,” France answered as they approached the table.

On the far side of the table sitting side by side were two men. One was Spanish and he was currently giving them a bright, but confused smile. The other was Italian and was giving them the largest scowl possible.

“Mes chéris,” France said sliding into a chair across form them. “You must be wondering why we call you ‘ere. Well it is because. . .”

“Shut up France,” Hungary said harshly, making Romano jump. “These twerps know why they are here. Now if you want to get out unharmed, you will answer my questions. . . without fail,” she smiled and tapped her pan against the table.

France shivered Hungary made an excellent bad cop.

Romano was clearly frightened now. He had always been on okay terms with Hungary so he was extremely afraid of her now. Romano leaned closer to Spain, who in response, wrapped an arm around him.

France saw a flash of gold as Romano rested his head on Spain’s shoulder, eyes downcast.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” Spain said as he held his former charge a bit closer, the left side of his body vibrating as Romano shook.

Hungary gave him a long stare and stalked over to Romano, leaning close, she pulled at the gold chain that hung there. “Then what’s this?” she asked eying the pendant.

It was gold, rather delicate and was set with a large red gemstone heart.

“Damn it,” Romano spat; he swatted the necklace out of Hungary’s grasp and tucked it underneath his shirt. He turned towards Spain, fire in his eyes. “I told you it was girly, you tomato bastard. Geez,” Romano turned away from him angry.

Hungary looked thoughtfully at the two as if deciding if their making up process would include kissing or not.

“Roma,” Spain said. He paused and turned Romano’s head so that they locked eyes. “Roma, I’m sorry I did not know you would dislike it so much. I just wanted to get you something special.”

“It was so many years ago,” Romano said softly. “I don’t know why you still insist on celebrating it anymore.”

France and Hungary exchanged glances. How long had this been going on behind their backs?

“Ah, but Romano, one’s confirmation into the church is very important!” Spain cried disbelievingly.

“Wait, so all of this is about church confirmation?” Hungary asked, her bad cop facade disappearing.

 “Yes,” Spain said with a smile. “Many years ago today, my little Roma was confirmed into the church. I was so very proud. Of course, I’m still very proud today to.”

“Why was it a secret then?” France asked, testily upset that he wouldn’t get the proof he wanted.

“Only sissies remember stuff like that,” Romano scoffed. “I wasn’t going to let anyone think I gave a damn,” he added softly under his breath. “What the heck did you think it was about, Frog?” Romano asked.

France and Hungary exchanged glances again.

Romano’s eyes widened. “You didn’t. . .” he trailed off slightly, face turning red.

France gave no answer.

“You did, didn’t you?” Romano asked. “Well you stupid French Frog, stop making stupid accusations, chigi you bastardo!”

“Romano calm down!” Spain flushed slightly at his former charge’s words. He placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to ease his temper.

“No, I will not calm down!” Romano frowned and shoved Spain’s hand off. “This idiota thinks we’re together.”

Spain’s face turned bright red and he turned to look at his friend, removing his hand from Romano’s shoulder. “Mi amigo, Francia, you didn’t really think that, did you?”

France paled. “Ah, well, I- I just thought that your secret would be more juicy. Besides you did buy him a girly necklace. I just thought. . .”

Spain sighed and turned away. “Never mind, mi amigo. Come along Roma, we should go,” he smiled softly at him and pulled him away from France.

Hungary and France were left alone, staring at each other.

“Don’t do that anymore,” Hungary said. “I don’t like being taken for a fool.”

France nodded and opened the door taking a deep bow as she passed. Together they passed a closet whose door was firmly shut. From behind the door, France could hear voices.

“You know I love you.”

“And I love you.”

“This day always reminds me why.”

There was a loud thud and then a whine.

“Spain!”

France smirked and moved towards the door, only to be dragged back by Hungary. “Leave them,” she ordered.

The two walked away, France looking back mournfully.

When the two were gone, the door was opened by Spain. He turned back to Romano and sighed patiently. “I don’t know why you had to trip, Romano.”

Romano glared as he limped past, his leg scraped. “I’m going to be limping for days takes to you,” he grumbled.

“You know you love me,” Spain said with a laugh.

Romano’s scowl softened. “Yeah, I know,” he smiled briefly and accepted the shoulder Spain offered to keep the pressure off of Romano’s hurt leg. “I know.”


End file.
